


My Path May Lead (To Heaven or Hell)

by Aivix



Category: The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: Multi, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 21:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6346585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aivix/pseuds/Aivix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Nowhere in those 549 sols had I thought about what my life would be like after.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Path May Lead (To Heaven or Hell)

Excerpt from 1000 Days of Space by C. Beck, B. Johanssen, R. Martinez:  
_Nothing could have prepared us for the man who boarded the Hermes on Mission Day 687: the Mark Watney we had left behind on Mars had been a vivacious man, lean but sturdy, always quick with a joke. He'd rarely forgotten anything._

_The Mark Watney we recovered was skinny to the point of emaciation, shaking from cold, and quiet. His skin was so paper-thin that the EVA suit left him with bruises and scratches in the effort to remove it. Food, though packs were hoarded in his quarters, was routinely forgotten until Chris and Beth took over his meal schedule._

Excerpt from I Will Survive, Hey Hey by M. Watney:  
_I had spent 549 sols on Mars preparing for my moment of rescue._

_Nowhere in those 549 sols had I thought about what my life would be like after._

* * *

He was released from the rehab center on Monday.

By nightfall, with Mark trembling in his arms while a flashback gripped him, Chris knew it'd been too soon.

* * *

Excerpt from _Left Behind: PTSD Among Non-Military in Military Situations_ , dated 4 July 2038:  
“Public outcry over the lack of care for our military men and women suffering with mental health issues like PTSD, Depression, and Anxiety led to huge improvements not only in the availability of treatments, but how quickly servicemen could begin therapy and start medication. No longer was it months of wait or flat-out refusals for care.

Even the stigma began to lift. These days, no matter what branch of the military it is, every American-owned base is required to have 1:75 ratio of therapists to servicemen and posters are mandated in every common area with information on how to obtain aid or anonymously report concerns about another soldier.

While these changes were needed and necessary, they do leave out a select group of individuals—the non-military in military situations.

For example, Astronaut Mark Watney, whom after surviving Mars and returning to Earth, was released from NASA's rehab facility at 91 days post-rescue. Sources at the time had come forward under the promise of anonymity to reveal that NASA's rehab program was meant to re-acclimatize astronauts to society after standard missions. His was anything but, and they'd been ill-equipped to deal with it. Several of those sources went on to say that NASA had not wanted to chance bad publicity at the time and refused to pay for in-patient psychological treatment. When NASA was asked, they stated it wasn't due to publicity but the fact that their own staff psychologists had cleared Watney as being mentally sound.

The Trader Joe's incident [1] flew directly in the face of that.”

* * *

Beth had never been an early riser, preferring to sleep in as long as she could before rolling out of bed and shuffling towards the coffee maker, but when Mark came home, it didn't take long for that to change.

Now, she usually beat both her boys awake, taking a quick walk through the house to right all the things Mark had sneaked out of bed to do: she opened the windows (“It's okay, Mark, there's air outside. Feel the breeze? It's okay.”) and checked the expiration dates on the bags and cans in his food stash; she made sure he hadn't fiddled with the water system again.

Then she went into the kitchen where she set Mark's medication bottles into a row on the counter, started up the coffee maker, and took a few minutes to look out the window at the blue sky overhead.

(“We're not on Mars, honey. It's okay, breathe, breathe... that's it. Mark, open your eyes, look up. See, blue sky. You're safe. You're _safe_.”)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/669258.html?thread=89007946#t89007946) on LJ's Comment_Fic: _author's choice, author's choice, what was broken cannot be mended_.


End file.
